


Starman

by owlswithbutts



Series: "Star-Lord, man. Legendary outlaw... Guys?" [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Child Peter, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 01:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlswithbutts/pseuds/owlswithbutts
Summary: Peter used to always look up at the stars when he was younger. His most favorite thing to do was imagine with his mom where his dad lived up there. Because after all, he was from the stars. But Peter never would've imagined he would be flying through them.





	Starman

**Author's Note:**

> There's been a lot on my mind, so naturally, I add more to that by thinking about my space babies. So to let off a bit steam I kinda vomited all of this out in one night.

Before he became the legendary ex-outlaw/thief and the leader of the famed Guardians of the Galaxy, Peter Jason Quill was just a scrawny kid from Missouri, USA. He lived in a big white house with his mother, his grandpa, a couple of his aunts, one uncle, and three other cousins. As much as he loved his family, he hated how crowded it was at home. He woke up to screaming and went to sleep with screaming. So yeah, growing up, he was already used to so much commotion that later on when he lives with the Ravagers, he's gotten used to the chaos.

When his mom started to get sick, that's when everything changed for him. He'd pick fights with the bullies at school and he'd always come home either from detention (yet again) or at the very least with a black eye or both.

"Peter Jason Quill! Is that a black eye on your face, _again_?" his mother said one day when she picked him up from detention.

"No," he lied as he turned away from her.

"I'm not blind, Peter. Just sick."

"Whatever," he says next and closes his eyes. She sighs and the drive home was in silence.

Many, many times did he _so_ badly want to apologize and hug her and kiss her because he just wants to go back to being "sweet little Peter." But he knows he can't. His mom was dying and he'd have to be tough about it. So he'd have to be tough around her too, just to show her he'll be okay when deep down they both knew he wouldn't be. Not for a long while.

He knew the nights when his mother drove him to their stargazing spot because the ride was taking longer than it usually was to go home. He opens his eyes when he feels the familiar bump his mom would drive by just to get to their spot. The car stops in front of some familiar bushes and next to a familiar oak tree. He steps out of the car and follows his mom up the hood where he finds her lying and waiting for him. As soon as he finds a comfortable position, she speaks. "What happened today at school?" She asked him. Peter groaned.

"Nothing, Mom."

"Alright then. How'd you get that black eye?" She looked at him dead in the eye this time, definitely not taking another "nothing" as an answer.

Peter sighed and sat up. "It was Than and his group again. Made fun of me and messed up the walkman," he said as he showed his mom the walkman.

"And so you thought beating them up was the right thing to do?"

"They started it."

"Peter," his mom sat up and turned towards him, "You are not five. You don't get to say who started it."

"But Mom!"

"No 'buts.’ Now hand over the walkman." The boy did as he was told and laid back down, watching his mom in awe as she tinkered with the device. After a few moments, she pressed a the play button and _Hooked on a Feeling_ continued from where it had left off from earlier.

"You fixed it!" Peter said in awe as he presses his ear on a speaker while his mom does the same to the other. "Thanks Mom."

"You're welcome, Starlord." They giggled.

Then ten minutes later, they're deep in thought of where Peter's daddy could be, because after all, he was from the stars. "Maybe he's right there," Peter pointed to a bright blue star.

"Hmm, maybe." It was a game that he'd been playing with her ever since he was younger. He wondered if he'd grown too old to be playing this game, but with everything that's going on, he'd do anything to make his mother happy. But talking about his dad seemed to just make her sad, though she hides it a little too well underneath her sunny smile.

After a while, they're in silence again, but this time it's a comfortable silence. Their hands are intertwined with one another and they listen. Peter doesn't know how long they've been out, but it sure does seem a while. Tomorrow's a school day, so he's a bit worried when his mother doesn't seem to be coaxing him to get off the roof so they could go home.

"Peter," his mom suddenly speaks. He sees a shooting star above them, but chooses not to say anything. "I love you, baby." His mom has been saying that a lot lately, but he acts like he's grossed out because he doesn't want her to get so serious. However now, his mind is blank. He can't get his brain to respond except to start crying. But he needs to act tough so he chokes back a sob.

"Love you too, Mom," he says, trying his best not to show his voice shaking. Of all the "love you" he says, this one feels so real that it breaks his heart. He wishes with everything he has to that shooting star that his Mom will be okay and they both will be happy. He wishes that his mom lives to see him turn 10 because right now he's only nine and he's trying his best.

"I'll always be with you, my little Starlord."

"I know, Mom." It was late enough where a few minutes later, Meredith finds her son asleep.

The next day at school, Peter is handed a sheet of paper with the question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Underneath that was an instruction, "Draw what you would look like in the future." He draws himself as an astronaut in a rocket and makes sure that there are stars and planets all around him. In the farthest planet from the rocket, he draws a person. When he finishes and turns it in to the teacher, the teacher looks at him in disbelief. "Peter, hun, you're gonna need to aim lower."

"Why?" He doesn't understand what he did wrong.

"Well, you have to be smart to be an astronaut."

"Yeah, I know."

"So then you know that you'll never make it to be one, right?"

"Why?"

"Because, Peter..." His teacher was trying to figure out way to let him down easy, but Peter knew what she meant already. That didn't mean he couldn't have fun while acting dumb. "You're not the smartest kid in the class."

"Were you?" he asks in his most innocent looking eyes.

"Actually, yes I was," his teacher seemed to be standing straighter.

"Then why aren't you an astronaut if you're so smart?" That led to an argument and a referral to the principal's office. The next day, his mom comes to his school for a parent-teacher conference to discuss his attitude along with his grades. When Meredith found out about the teacher practically calling her son "dumb," she'd given the woman a bloody nose and declared _never_ to speak to her son in that way. Peter went home that night both a bit more scared and amazed at his mother.

On the car ride home, his mother was absolutely fuming with rage. "Peter, if anyone _ever_ tells you that you can't do anything, do it anyway. Stick it up their butts," his mom said, her grip getting tighter and tighter on the steering wheel.

"Yes, Mom," Peter gulped.

"And you better raise those test scores."

"I will, Mom." He did, but only enough to where he wasn't so low he seen as "inadequate." But not too high where the bullies can find new ways to gang up on him.

When his mom's condition got worse, they'd stop going to their spot altogether. Peter was becoming increasingly distressed and would now often come home with a bruise or multiple bruises on his body. In the nights when his mother was allowed to go home, they'd climb up the roof of the house very late so they can have the peace and quiet like they had back at their spot. These were the moments Peter found happiness and bliss, but also pain and sorrow. "I don't think I'm getting better, baby."

"Mom, don't say that." And so she doesn’t say anything else about that topic and instead asks him about school and if he has a crush on a girl yet.

“Gross!” Peter would say and they both would laugh.

“You’re birthday’s in a week from now, right? Is there anything you want?” His mother squeezed his hand.

 _For you to get better._ “Maybe a new mix?” He looks at her and she laughs.

When his tenth birthday comes, she’s stuck in the hospital bed hooked up to a machine. He spends his birthday in her room. She wakes up that night and a few minutes later, they’re telling jokes and laughing. She seemed to be getting better; her laugh is ringing and her smile is glowing. Peter can’t help but feel so warm that he starts to cry because his mom’s getting better for his birthday. He doesn’t even care that he didn’t get his mix, just as long as he can listen to his mom’s laugh again. When his grandpa comes to pick him up, he doesn’t hear his mom’s coughing fit as he walks out of the hospital because his walkman’s playing _O-o-h Child_. And he believes that it will get easier.

The next day his mom’s in worse condition that she was before. He doesn’t leave her side except for when to pee. He overhears his grandpa talk to the doctor, who tells him that she doesn’t have much time anymore. That night he’s up at the roof, for the first time alone. His walkman’s in his ears and he’s gazing up, wondering where his daddy could be. There are times when Peter wishes that he could just get on a rocket and fly into outer space with his mom. Anywhere is better than here and right now, it’s so real it hurts. And so he cries and cries until he’s tired and climbs down.

Three days after his birthday, Peter’s sitting on a chair in front of his mom’s room with his walkman. He’d much rather be outside on the roof of the house and just gaze up and wonder where his dad could be. But his grandpa takes off his headphones and says that his mom wants to talk to him. Then his mom dies and he’s running out of the hospital in tears. He collapses on the ground when suddenly a bright light surrounds him. He thinks it’s his mom because only someone like that can be as bright as the light up in the sky. But it wasn’t.

He still wants to be an astronaut, but he doesn’t think getting kidnapped into outer space counts.

It’s been years since then and Peter’s grown into the legendary Starlord he is today. He’s the captain of his very own spaceship with a raccoon named Rocket as a friend so he thinks it counts as a rocketship in a way. He’s friends with the most dysfunctional, emotionally constipated people he’s ever met, but this is the most family he’s ever gotten to since his mom. And he’s fallen in love with the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on and nothing could be better than this. After all those years looking up at the stars, he’s soaring with them now and he feels like that’s an accomplishment, so _suck it Ms. Brady. I’m better than an astronaut._

Right now when he should be asleep, he can’t help but stare at the brightest star that could ever burn, who’s lying next to him with her hand intertwined with his. Her tangled hair swirls like the Milky Way Galaxy and her green skin shines brighter than the Wreath Nebula he’s seen a while back. Her kisses make him feel like a thousand stars burning out in a supernova. If eternity exists, he would gladly spend it in a heartbeat with her as they dance across the stars. 

For the first time in years, he feels absolutely bliss. He knows his mom’s okay and that she’s happy. They’re both happy now.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a few points I need to clear out. Wikipedia says Peter was born in Colorado, but I chose to say Missouri for the sake of movie canon. Yes, the scene between him and his mom stargazing is based off of the Telltale video game. I think Peter was supposed to be 8 when his momma died, but I felt like 10 seemed to be where I wanted him to be. Also my bad if my grammar sucks :’)


End file.
